She stepped out, excitement bubbling in her chest. The news she had just received called for a celebration, hot, spicy noodles, the kind that made her nose tingle and her eyes water.
This was it. A fresh start.
She inhaled the crisp evening air, her eyes glistening with happiness. This was the best news she'd heard in forever. She had almost given up, almost let despair win, but she was glad now that she hadn't.
Stepping onto the pavement, she exhaled slowly. She didn't belong to her hometown anymore. The life she left behind, the suffocating expectations, the arranged marriage, none of it mattered here.
She was free.
Or so she thought.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Dad.
A lump formed in her throat. She ignored the call, already knowing the words that would follow if she answered.
Emma, stop being reckless. Come home. The wedding is set. Mr. Liang is waiting.
Her fingers curled into a fist as she shoved the phone deeper into her pocket, as if that could bury the truth. Two weeks from now, she was supposed to be standing in a grand hall, draped in silk, marrying a man old enough to be her father. A man she didn't love. A man she barely knew.
All because of her father's greed.
Not happening.
That was why she ran. She refused to become some rich man's fifth wife. In this generation? Nah. Six months had passed, and still, neither her father nor her so-called fiancé had been able to track her down. Just the way she wanted.
After six months of searching, of knocking on doors and facing rejection after rejection, she had finally done it. She had landed a job. And not just any job, a position at Oakridge Hall.
The most prestigious school in the city. A place where billionaires sent their children, where last names carried power, and where a single backpack could cost more than a house in her hometown. It was the kind of institution that people like her could only dream of stepping into.
And yet, come Monday, she would be walking through its grand gates as a teacher. The thought made her want to scream in excitement. She couldn't believe it. It still felt unreal. Unable to contain herself, she practically danced as she turned the corner toward her favorite noodle shop. This called for a celebration. Spicy noodles, extra chili.
But then she saw him.
A little boy.
Running.
Alone.
Her excitement died instantly. Who would let a child, no older than five, wander the streets at this hour? But as he got closer, the sinking feeling in her stomach turned into something worse. His wrists were tied, rope digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. His clothes were dirty, and he wore only one shoe, the other lost somewhere in his frantic escape.
Then she heard his voice.
"Help! Please, help me!"
The desperation in his tone sent a chill through her. Before she could process what was happening, the boy crashed into her legs, clinging to her as if letting go meant death. Emma immediately knelt, her hands trembling as she held his small shoulders. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Who—"
His terrified eyes darted behind him.
She followed his gaze.
A woman was sprinting toward them. Something about her made Emma's blood run cold. The woman's strides were long and determined, her arms pumping hard. Her eyes, sharp, unblinking, were locked on the boy.
Emma's breath caught.
The boy's grip tightened on her. "Please, don't let her take me!" Then, just as suddenly, his small body went limp.
He fainted.
Panic slammed into her. Without thinking, she scooped him up and ran. She fumbled for her phone as she sprinted, her pulse roaring in her ears.
"Emergency services, how can we help?"
"A child, he's been kidnapped! Someone is after him!"
She glanced back.
The woman had stopped. Her piercing gaze flickered from Emma to the phone in her hand. Then, just like that, she turned and vanished into the darkness.
Emma gasped for breath. "She ran away! You need to send—"
The sound of sirens cut through the night.
Loud. Close.
Too close.
Before she could react, blue and red lights flashed around her, illuminating the street in an eerie glow.
Police cars.
So many of them.
The moment they screeched to a stop, officers poured out, weapons raised.
"Put the boy down! Now!"
Emma's body went rigid.
"What? No, no, he's unconscious, he needs help!"
"Now!"
The sheer force in their voices made her hands shake. Slowly, carefully, she lowered the boy to the ground.
"Hands in the air!"
Her stomach twisted, but she obeyed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Before she could utter another word, rough hands grabbed her, yanking her forward. Her chest hit the cold metal of a police car. A second later, she felt the sharp bite of steel as handcuffs locked around her wrists.
"The kidnapper has been caught!"
Emma's mind reeled.
No. No, this is wrong.
They think I took him?
"No! This is a mistake! I was trying to help him! That woman, she was chasing him!"
Her voice cracked, but no one listened.
The officers moved like a well-oiled machine, ignoring her protests. The last thing she saw before they shoved her into the back of the police car was the little boy, still lying unconscious on the pavement. The door slammed shut, sealing her inside. And just like that, her fresh start was over.
She struggled against the cuffs, her breath coming in frantic gasps."Please! Just listen! I didn't do anything!" A cold sweat broke over her skin.
This can't be happening.
She tried to catch the eye of one of the officers outside, but they weren't looking at her anymore. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when she was about to start a new life.
A kidnapper?
She was no kidnapper. This was wrong place, wrong time. But as the police car sped off into the night, Emma had a sinking feeling.
This wasn't going to be easy to explain.
And worst of all...
Somewhere in the darkness, someone was watching. And they were smiling.